The Young and the Infected
by mkmorris98
Summary: "You dumb bitch," he said, coughing up blood from his lungs. "I told you to run." The small girl clung to him, grasping his hand with a pitifully weak grip. "I can't-" "You can," he said. The howl of a tank sounded in the distance. With the last of his strength, he yanked the dog tag from his neck, then pressed it into her palm. "Don't look back." RochelleXNick EllisXZoey
1. Chapter 1- Run

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 1- Run**

"You dumb bitch," he said, coughing up blood from his lungs. "I told you to run."

The small girl clung to him, grasping his hand with a pitifully weak grip. "No," she started. Tears pooled in her eyes. She hated that he was right. Hated the thick pool of dark blood that she kneeled in- his blood. "I can't-"

"You can," he said. The howl of a tank sounded in the distance. With the last of his strength, he yanked the dog tag from his neck, then pressed it into her palm. "Don't look back."

She hesitated.

"Melia. Go."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she obeyed. The roar of a horde echoed behind her, and she hated herself more with every step she took. But she did as he asked.

She ran. And she did not look back.

* * *

The worst thing to be in a zombie apocalypse was alone.

It took her a while to realize her situation. She hadn't thought while she ran- hadn't been able to afford to think. If she thought, she'd stop, she'd turn around and go back for him, and she could never survive that way. She was a few miles away before aching muscles and a sharp pain in her lungs caused her to stop and lean on a nearby building.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself. There were no heavy breaths beside her. No running footsteps behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment so she could pretend...

They were all gone.

The teen had no time to mourn. Again, she knew she couldn't think, lest she be rendered unable to continue on. She had to get to a saferoom, and fast, before something found her. It wasn't the regular infected she was worried about. As small as she was, her short legs carried her fast enough to outrun tanks and even hunters. But if she were to get roped up up by a smoker, or carried by a charger...

She was screwed.

Not that she had much time left anyways.

Sighing, the girl pulled at the worn hospital discharge band that encircled her wrist. Out of all of them, she'd be the least likely to survive, and she was the only one left. What a waste.

The howl of a hunter and the rumbling of a boomer echoed off of nearby buildings. Melia quickly regained her bearings, turning away from the wall and picking off nearby infected with her pistol.

She was small. She wasn't very strong. Her aim sucked, and she had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only advantages she had were her intelligence, now inaccessible due to the recent tragedy, and her speed, which was pretty much spent after her sprint from danger.

Still, wanted to stay alive for as long as possible. She had to keep moving. It was her only chance.

* * *

It seemed like an eternity before she found a saferoom. Sandwiched in between a gun shop and a grocery store, it was a pretty good location. There were two tables inside the room. One was stockpiled with dry foods, while the other held an array of ammo and guns that she vaguely recognized as AK-somethings.

Screw it all. She wasn't cut out for a zombie apocalypse. Whenever her friends wrote apocalyptic fanfics, they always included her. And she was always the first to die.

She stuffed a box of crackers into her backpack and grabbed another to munch on. How ironically wrong her friends had been.

Her friends. God, help her. She knew she'd never be able to think of them again. Not until she was safe, really safe. She could not mourn without immobilizing herself.

There were so many of them.

She suddenly noticed that notes in white chalk had been scrawled on the wall. She scoured the floor for a piece and found one stuffed in a corner.

The names came out faster than she could process. She didn't look at them she just wrote. She kept her mind blank and let her subconscious do all the work.

She signed the end with a curly goodbye, then cut her hospital band of and stuck it under the note with a piece of gum. A makeshift signature. Still not looking at the wall, she put the chalk away and settled down on the ground, munching on more crackers. After all that had happened today, she figured she deserved a good rest. She needed time to wrap wounds, get food, water, medicine..maybe even sleep.

The girl opened her bottle of pills and swallowed one. It wasn't along until she felt the drugs side effects (drowsiness and slight nausea) kick in. She closed her eyes and leaned into the wall, arms folded in front of her. Sleep, she decided, was absolutely necessary at this point.

After all, soon she'd have to go back into the apocalypse.

* * *

She woke up to a scream.

"GET THIS THING OFFA ME!" a female voice yelled. Various other shouts, accompanied by machine gun shots, sounded in the near distance. Melia grabbed a few more boxes and cans of food before opening the saferoom door and sprinting in the direction of the voices.

She would not let anyone else die today.

She knew she was close when she saw a horde of infected surrounding a group of survivors. There looked to be about four of them, two of which had been boomered on. The resulting horde kept them all occupied, preventing them from saving their colleague who had been pinned to the ground by a hunter. Somehow, Melia was able to aim well enough to knock the thing off of the woman.

Melia then turned her attention to the horde, but her gun was immediately knocked out of her hand. Gasping, she reached to pick it up, desperate to have something to defend herself with before she was pulled away.

The smoker's tongue jerked her away before she could reach it. "NO!" she screamed, squirming the best she could. The tongue wound its way from her waist to around her neck, strangling her as it pulled her towards the angry smoker. She clawed at the tongue, kicking in a desperate attempt to get free.

It was no use. The smoker pulled her close enough to begin scratching her, digging its claws into her sides. She couldn't breathe.

Then there was a puff of smoke, a dying wheeze. The tongue went limp and she fell to the ground, sputtering. As soon as she could stand, she did, helping to eliminate the last of the infected. They came in slower now, the smell of boomer bile far less pungent. Soon the horde was dissipated enough for her to see the rest of the survivors.

She rubbed her neck as she made her way over to them, still catching her breath. She caught sight of blood dripping from the woman's arm, most likely from the hunter.

"Are you alright?" she wheezed. The woman nodded, pulling her pink shirt away from the wound.

"A bit scratched up, but I'm fine, thanks to you," she replied.

"Consider it even, since one of you..." Melia wagged her finger around, pointing at the various members of the group.

"Yeah, no problem," one of the men replied. He wore a white suit with a blue undershirt, which seemed far too hot for the weather, even though the sleeves were rolled up. His voice was slightly accented...something like you'd hear in Chicago.

"Name's Rochelle, you?" the woman said.

"Melia."

"Nick," the suited man said.

"I'm Ellis," a young, muscular man drawled in a southern accent, "but some people call me El. But I prefer Ellis cause El kinda sounds like a girl's name." The boy tipped his hat to the young girl.

"Folks call me Coach," the last man replied. He was the eldest of the group, and the largest. Yet somehow, he had a fatherly aura about him. Melia immediately took a liking to him.

"I don't s'pose yer with anybody else?" Ellis asked, peering over the girls shoulder. She almost said yes- before biting her lip and looking to the ground.

"...no," she said, just above a whisper. "No. I'm alone."

Rochelle placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry. You won't have to travel alone anymore. We could use an extra set of hands." The others nodded their agreement. Melia brightened.

"As long as it's alright with all of you..." She grinned. "Thank you."

She had a feeling she was going to like this group very much.

* * *

**Thanks for reading guys! This is my first fanfiction so please don't forget to fave/follow or review and tell me what you thought!**


	2. Chapter 2- Boom

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 2- Boom**

"**Cut that out, will ya?!"** Nick shouted. Melia cringed and lowered her weapon, smiling her apology to the man. This was the second time she'd almost hit him, her shots less than a foot away. She pocketed her gun and took out a crowbar she'd found lying on the ground outside a store.

"Sorry. I think I'll use this now," she replied. The conman rolled his eyes but appeared relieved.

Rochelle snuck up next to the girl, leaning in to whisper, "Don't worry. No one would've minded if you'd actually hit him."

"I can HEAR YOU!" Nick shouted back, but all Rochelle did was chuckle and continue on her merry way. Ever since the woman had learned that they were nearly to the evac station, her spirit had lifted considerably.. The candy and guns they'd found in the saferoom also helped improve the entire group's mood.

"I'll get it eventually," the teen assured. "It's just...it was a lot different in videogames."

"Yeah, no kidding," Nick retorted.

Melia turned her face away so they wouldn't see her pout. The girl didn't like to admit it, but she was rather sensitive, and not used to people not liking her. The conman's harsh and snappy attitude frightened her.

A gunshot cut off further conversation. Ellis cocked his shotgun again and stood at the ready, observing his surroundings.

"Hey, ya know what we shud dew?" he asked. Without waiting for answer, he shouted. "Play I spy!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I think that's a very bad idea," he said. Rochelle scoffed.

"Screw it. I think it could be fun!" she retorted. Nick rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever."

"Alright, boy. It was your idea, you go first," Coach said.

Ellis tapped his chin and looked around. "Hmm, I spy...something...pink!"

The entire group tightened their grips on their guns to keep from facepalming.

"Rochelle's shirt," Nick deadpanned.

Ellis pouted. "Awww, Nick! How'd yew get that so quickly?"

The conman didn't answer. Coach chuckled. "Alright Nick. You won, now it's your turn."

Nick whirled around to give Coach a dirty look before sighing and turning back to the road. "Fine." He couldn't believe he was playing a game that he grew out of when he was 12 years old. He lazily scanned his surroundings. "I spy..."

* * *

About an hour later, the group found themselves at the bottom of 30 flights of concrete stairs.

"If I'd have known the evac station was at the top of a hotel, I don't think I would've been as excited to get here," Rochelle said. The rest of the group didn't reply, only stared up at the daunting flights, wondering how long it would take to climb them. To their surprise, Melia was the first to start up.

"The sooner we start, the sooner we're done," she said. Something about her voice hinted that there was something she wasn't saying, but Nick didn't bother asking what it was. Asking women what they were thinking turned out badly for him nine times out of ten.

Nick boredly observed the small girl as climbed. She seemed trustworthy enough, and she obviously wasn't a threat to them. She was even tinier than Rochelle, but still developed, like someone had taken a grown young woman and squashed her until she was the size of a lanky 13 year old. Nick doubted she could hurt them, even armed.

Despite the girl's nonthreatening aura, Nick still almost objected to her addition to the group. They didn't need a tiny girl who couldn't shoot. In the end, it was her eyes that kept him from saying anything. She just looked so damn innocent. How the hell had she survived on her own?

Nick was pulled out of his thoughts when Coach groaned. When the man slowed, Nick only made his way around him, looking back to check on the older man.

"Who the hell...puts on evac station...up thirty flights...of goddamm stairs?" he asked.

Nick chuckled. "Who knows, Coach? Maybe the helicopter...maybe it's made of chocolate." He winked and chuckled as the older man scowled at him. Oh well. The man needed some motivation.

* * *

Melia had known something was off as soon as they got to the evac center.

The empty lobby, abandoned health packs, zombie infested stairs- those had all been signs. But they had been signs that left a little room for hope.

What really worried her was the lack of radios.

Surely they would have left some means of communication. How else would they know anyone was here? She'd hoped they'd find one on the roof of the building, but so far her search had left her empty handed. There was no sound of any helicopters nearby.

Ellis cupped his hands around his mouth. "HELLOOOOOOOOO?!" he hollered. There was no answer.

"Maybe we should wait a while. See if they come back." Rochelle suggested. Melia knew that it wasn't likely, but she decided not to say anything. If they wanted to stay, she had no right to tell them they couldn't.

Nick saw the girl unconsciously biting her lip, a thinking look in her eyes. "Hey," he said. "If you've got something to say, you should say it."

The teen looked up at the man uncomfortably. "It's just-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening.

"What-" Nick began

"SHHH!" Melia held a hand to her lips and tilted her head, focusing intensely. "Do you hear that?" she asked.

The rest of the group leaned towards her, straining their ears. It was almost inaudible, but there was indeed a sound- a hurried and quiet ticking noise.

"We need to get out of here...They aren't coming back," Melia said. She hurried towards the stairs and the others began to follow, with the exception of Rochelle.

"Ro!" Coach barked. The woman's attention was fixated on something else. She pointed a painted fingernail to the distance.

"_Look._"

There were helicopters shaded against the red horizon, hovering back and forth over buildings. Below them, pieces of the city exploded into rubble.

"Holy _shit_," Ellis drawled. Melia shook her head. They must've planted remotely detonated charges earlier...

Which made things all the more concerning when a helicopter flew towards them. But Rochelle and Ellis still seemed hopeful.

"Do you think that maybe they-" Ellis began.

"Hick. We need to get out of here. _Now_," the conman urged. Ellis stared at the ground dejectedly for a moment before continuing down the stairs. Melia hopped onto the railing and slid down the flights, followed by Rochelle. Nick pattered down just beside them, with Ellis and Coach lagging behind.

The deep hum of the helicopter drew closer...and closer...and closer still...

_BOOM!_

The explosion shook the entire building, causing Rochelle and Melia to stumble off of the railings and into the wall. Soon after another explosion went off, this one closer. The door into the hallway flew off of its hinges, followed by a plume of fire. The flight of stairs above the faster three creaked ominously.

"Get away from those stairs!" Rochelle hollered. She, Melia, and Nick hurried down another flight, away from the shaking railings, while Coach and Ellis backpedaled to a sturdier flight.

_BOOM!_

With the third explosion, the fourth flight down collapsed into a fiery heap. Below them, more flights gave out, blocking the exit.

Rochelle leaned her head over the railings, peering up. "Everyone okay?!" she hollered.

Coach's voice boomed back at her. "We're fine! Ya'll stay on that floor now- we'll find a way down to ya," he said.

"Alright!" Rochelle yelled. She entered the main hallway and raised her gun, ready. Melia popped a pill in her mouth and tried to ignore the aching pain in her brain.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to follow/fave or leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3- Guns

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 3- Guns**

"**So,"** Rochelle said, once they were all securely inside the saferoom, "that was fun."

Nick laughed and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, then produced a lighter from the other. "Sweetheart, if that's your idea of fun, you need help," he replied. He pocketed the lighter and breathed in for a moment, then blew out the smoke in a ring.

Melia scoffed. "Really?" she asked. It was more of a mumble to herself, but Nick faced her anyways.

"Problem?" he asked. The teen bit her lip. She hated confrontation, but smoking was one of the few things that _really_ pissed her off.

She folded her arms. "Sir, I'm not trying to be rude, but..." She coughed when the conman blew a ring into her face. She coughed. "If you're gonna smoke, at least do it by the window. Some of us like our lungs."

Nick rolled his eyes but followed her instructions. He was surprised when the girl added, "You're fighting to stay in a zombie apocalypse while killing yourself from the inside. It just seems...illogical."

"Honey, we're hiding from zombies. The world is hardly logical."

The teen blew a hair out of her face and turned away. " M'kay."

Rochelle approached the girl with a healthkit and instructed her to sit on a table. "When you're done, Nick, I'll fix you up too," she offered. The conman looked at her from the corner of his eye. He blew out another puff.

"Thanks."

* * *

They decided to head to New Orleans. Nearby evac stations there had long been abandoned, but Ellis said there was a famous car that had been showing nearby. Supposedly it was a racecar, which would be both easily maneuverable and fast. Of course the teen was ecstatic when she heard that it was at a mall.

"Oh, thank _God!_" she said. "I'd been meaning to go to one."

Nick scoffed and shouldered his gun. "Don't get to excited cupcake. This isn't a shopping trip. We're getting to the car, filling it up, and leaving."

Melia pulled her lips into a pretty pout. "I know that!" she protested. "But while we're getting to the car..." She grinned.

"No."

"_Yes_," Rochelle butted in. Nick recoiled in surprise. "I think grabbing some more supplies would be a good idea. Clothes included. There's bound to be some snacks, too."

Melia hid her triumphant grin with a hand while Nick rolled his eyes.

"I could use a chocolate bar..." Coach said. As if on cue, his stomach let out an angry growl.

"Alright, fine," Nick said. "I guess you have a point."

"Yay!" Melia piped. "We'll try not to take too long, Nick."

Ellis cocked a shotgun and handed it to Rochelle. "If we're gon' stop by some stores, we should check for medicine too. We're runnin' purty low on pills."

They all nodded, Melia with a strange look on her face. It had only just occurred to her that she too would need to restock on pills- her very _specific_ pills. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to find them at any standard pharmacy.

Rochelle leaned forward, trying to catch the girl's eye. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Melia replied rather monotonically. Rochelle pursed her lips but decided not to press. The rest of the group exchanged glances.

Ellis cocked another gun he'd found in the saferoom- a small semi-auto machine gun- and held it towards Melia. She shook her head.

"I don't know how to use anything else," she said, holding up her tiny pistol and gesturing to it. Nick arched his brow, and Ellis began to laugh.

"Whew-wee!" Ellis slapped his leg, then shoved the semi-auto into the teen's chest. "Yer funny Melia. Ya know, for a second there, I almost believed yew-"

"Hick," Nick cut in, "I don't think she was kidding."

Melia stared at the gun in her arms like it was an alien. She turned it over in her hands, inspecting it, mystified. Nick snatched it away.

"Stop playing with that! You're gonna hurt someone." He handed her a pistol and, once she had a good handle on that one, handed her another. She gave him a doe eyed look, and he rolled his eyes. "It's better than just one. You can shoot with both hands, can't you?"

The girl nodded.

"Then do that until I can teach you how to shoot a real gun." Sighing, he moved to stand by the door. "Let's just get this over with..."

* * *

Half an hour later, the group had run past a medical camp, through multiple buildings, over barricades, and past witches. So far, the infected had come in a slow and steady stream. However, the group of survivors knew it wouldn't last- it'd be overwhelmingly crowded once they got to the mall.

They were all relieved when they stumbled into a gun store.

"Laser sights!" Ellis cheered. He grabbed a combat shotgun from it's place on the wall before attaching a laser sight to it. Grinning, he peered down the barrel.

"Thank ye Jesus! It may be ova' ninety degrees right now, but it's Christmas to me," Coach said, grabbing his own choice of weapons (a pump shotgun and an AK). He too, grabbed some sights, then waved over the teen. "These'll help ya, young'un. It'll be easier to aim dis way- no more close calls with Nicholas."

"Thank God," the conman retorted.

Rochelle came to stand next to Melia while she aimed down the barrel, safety on, of course.

"Of course, the sights do come loose every so often. So if you have a little 'accident' and 'graze' Nick anyways..." Rochelle winked.

"I can still HEAR you!" Nick hollered.

Rochelle threw her head back, laughing. "I'm sorry Nick, you know I don't mean it. You're just so easy to tease."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Melia saw Nick grin from the corner of her vision- which surprised her. She snuck a glance at Rochelle, who also had a little grin on her face. The teen giggled knowingly, then avoided the confused glances of her teammates.

"It's nothing," she claimed. "I need to go to the bathroom." She skipped away and pulled the door closed behind her, leaving her teammates to exchange glances.

Inside the bathroom, Melia's smile fell. She discreetly opened her bottle of pills (which, thankfully, was still not anywhere near being low) and swallowed a single pill dry. Her stomach growled in discomfort.

"Don't growl at me. I don't like it either," she said. She watched herself in the mirror for a while, observing the changes that her body had undergone over the past week or so. It was barely noticeable, but her cheeks were a little more sunken, skin a more yellowy color. She knew she needed to stop. She needed rest. Low activity is what they had recommended- but that was hardly possible now.

A sudden, throbbing pain shot through her skull. Groaning, she kneeled on the ground and held her head low, between her legs. It was a good few minutes before the pain went away.

There was a knock at the door. "Melia? You okay in there?" Rochelle called.

Melia quickly shot up, glad when there was no wave of nausea to pull her back down. "Yeah, sorry. Just got caught up fixing my hair." She quickly pulled her hair into a sidebraid and opened the door, giving Rochelle a suspicious grin.

Rochelle arched a brow. "You sure you're alright?"

Melia nodded.

"Then get outta the bathroom. I gotta go, too!" Rochelle grinned. Melia laughed and murmured an apology before going back to join the rest of the group.

"Hey, sweetie!" Nick called. Melia looked up to see a gun being tossed at her- which she promptly caught. "C'mere. I'm gonna teach you how to shoot before we head into that mall."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to follow/fave or leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4- Blood

**Hello lovely readers! Special note before we get started this time:**

**I just wanted to thank all of you who are reading and continue to read this fanfic- especially those of you who have submitted your wonderful reviews. It's amazing to get so much feedback on my first fanfic! Please continue giving feedback if it so pleases you! Thanks!**

**Onto the story!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 4- Blood**

**The first thing she did was give herself a nosebleed.**

Nick had mentioned kickback, of course, but Melia had not expected a force that could've knocked her clear off her feet. Luckily, the girl had taken a cautious stance, allowing her to stay upright. Her arms, however, were not so sturdy. The gun smashed into her face and nearly clattered to the ground.

She immediately turned to look at the conman. "Sorry..." She grinned sheepishly, barely holding onto the shotgun by the edge of its barrel.

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "God help me. This is going to be harder than I thought." He looked over at the target- a fairly large cola bottle they'd found inside the the store. Below the bottle and far to the right, a bullet hole pierced the center of a graffiti flower.

"Hey, at least she stayed on her feet," Coach retorted. "Gotta give her some credit fo' that."

Melia took aim again, dripping blood onto her shirt. Nick hurriedly pushed the nose of the gun down."Hey hey hey! Let's stop the waterfall of blood before we continue, okay?"

The girl cocked her head like a dog trying to listen. "Huh?"

"Blood kid. LOTS of blood on your FACE!" Nick replied. Melia, again doe eyed, reached up and touched her upper lip, then inspected the blood on her fingers. Nick shook his head. "Hick, can you get the kid some tissues or something?"

Ellis obeyed, quickly returning with both Rochelle and a roll of toilet paper. "Nick, why'd yew give her a shotgun? Those things kick like a billy-goat in a chicken pen."

Nick wanted to argue with the hick and his terribly hickish expression- but the kid was right. Why had he given Melia a shotgun? The question replayed in his head as he watched the teen wipe herself off and then stick tiny rolls of toilet paper up her nose.

"Fine," he said. He grabbed a lightweight M-16 instead, giving it to the girl. "Try this instead. Just- be careful. Its semi-automatic."

Melia held the gun in her hands for a few moments, biting her lip repeatedly. She looked up at Rochelle. "Hey- do you know how to use this?"

Rochelle arched a brow. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can I watch you?"

Rochelle hesitated a moment before walking over and accepting the gun. Melia observed closely as the woman took aim, keeping track of her stance, her grip, her gaze. Melia's fingers twitched.

"Right hand grip, left hand barrel, butt of the gun between the shoulder and breast..." The teen murmured.

Rochelle focused her aim.

The bottle shattered into tons of tiny little pieces, all flying in different directions. The sound the gun made reminded Melia of a woodpecker- loud and fast. A few bullet holes pierced the wall directly below the remainder of the bottle.

"And _that_ is how its done," Rochelle said. Grinning, she handed the gun back to Melia.

Ellis set up another coke bottle while Melia positioned the gun properly in her arms. She couldn't help but notice when the rest of the group took cover several feet away.

Brow furrowed, the teen took aim. Breathed in. Copied Rochelle's stance almost exactly.

_Chink!_

The first round of bullets just grazed the top of the bottle. Nick scoffed.

"Lucky shot," he claimed. "No one hits the target during the first practice. Just try to hit the wall _near_ the bottle now, alright?"

Melia pursed her lips and nodded, barely glancing at the man out of the corner of her eye. She adjusted her stance, her grip. She shot again and missed completely, bullets ricocheting off the ground behind the wall.

Sighing, the girl released the gun with one hand. "I can't-"

"You _can_," Nick said sharply. The girl's lips parted in surprise. "_Breathe_."

There were a few still moments- moments when nobody wanted to move, let alone breathe. The only sound was Melia's slightly shaky breaths. The girl took aim again, brow furrowed. 

And the bottle shattered in a fantastic display of flying glass.

The air was eerily silent. The four other survivors were wide eyed, watching the teen as if she had just transformed before their very eyes. Ellis gazed at the bullet hole that had pierced the flower on the wall- had Melia's aim been that far off just a minute ago?

Slowly, Melia walked over to Nick. Smiled ever so slightly. Handed him the gun.

"Thanks."

* * *

"I don't know why I agreed to this," Melia said. The girl balanced precariously on Ellis's shoulders, half crouched as she reached for the roof of the grocery store. The rest of the group watched bemusedly from a distance.

Coach clicked his tongue as Melia pawed at the air a good foot away from the roof's edge. "All this for a case of Cola."

"Have you almost got it?" Ellis called. Rochelle was amazed when the hick didn't appear to be under any strain. Melia was small and surely light, but not _that_ light. Perhaps it had something to do with the boy's bulging biceps.

Nick raised a brow at Melia's fearful, cautious crouch. "She would have it, if she stood up straight," Nick commented.

The girl frowned. "Sorry," she began, turning her head to look at the man. The quick movement immediately threw her off balance. "EEP!" She crouched down further and gripped the sides of Ellis' hat, teetering precariously to the side. Coach surged towards her, arms outstretched.

"Careful now!" he boomed.

"Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry!" the girl exclaimed. Slowly, she pulled herself back into a careful, centered balance. Shakily, she stood back up to a slightly fuller height than before.

Rochelle punched Nick in the arm. "Don't distract her!"

Melia wobbled again with the sudden shout, wincing. "Maybe we should just try to go in the front anyways," she suggested.

Nick shook his head. "That alarm could summon zombies from a mile off. Too risky."

The teen grimaced and looked back at the edge of the roof, which, despite Ellis's efforts, seemed impossibly far away. "Well, maybe it would be better if you lifted Rochelle up," she tried. She began to crouch down again.

Ellis pushed her in such a way that she was forced back up. "Nah, it's better this way. Yer the smallest, and the way in will probably be tiny." The hick paused, looking over at Rochelle. "No offense."

"None taken."

Melia groaned. "Maybe Rochelle can pull us up and we can all jump off the other side."

Coach twisted his lips into a grimace, raising a brow. "Young'un, how do you suppose I would get up there?"

Melia paused, taking in the man's tall, heavy figure. "Alright, point taken," she said dejectedly. Sighing, she returned her attention to the edge of the roof. "I'm not sure if I can reach it. I'm too short."

Ellis hoisted the girl up further, and she let out a squeak. "How about now?"

Melia stood up straight, gasping, and grasped the roof's edge. "Got it!" She shifted her weight, attempting to pull herself up by her fingertips.

Nick let out a chuckle.

"...I don't think I'm strong enough to pull myself up from here," the teen said. Ellis twisted his lips, seemingly contemplating.

"Why don't you try agin'?" he suggested, a slight twinkle to his voice.

"Now?"

"Now."

"Alright..." Melia adjusted her grip and pulled again.

Suddenly, Ellis grabbed onto Melia's feet and shoved her up. She let out a scream, but landed safely on the top of the building.

Coach chuckled as the girl gave a thumbs up sign before scampering out of view.

"Ellis!" Rochelle chided, but she was smiling.

Above, Melia pattered along the rough concrete, searching for an entrance. There were a few vents, but they were far too small for even Melia to squeeze through. She did a small circle around the building, peering over the sides.

There. In the back of the building, a small window had been left ever so slightly ajar. The girl nimbly reached down and pulled it open further. "I've got it!" she called. Swiftly, she swung her feet over the edge and into the the window, landing safely inside.

It was dark inside the store. Most windows had been boarded, blocking out the light. She had to squint to read the signs.

A large arrow labeled _sodas_ pointed to the back of the store. Melia followed it and found a small case of cola laying on the ground.

_Well that's convenient, _she thought.

Suddenly, there was a growl behind her. It was deep, low, similar to that of an angry wolf...

Melia turned just as the hunter pounced.

She let out a scream and quickly jumped to the side, kicking at the hunter's head when it landed next to her. The thing let out a fierce growl and clawed her, drawing blood from her side. Melia let out a pained cry and kicked once more. This time she caught it in the chin, stunning it long enough to back away.

She was gasping for breath. Her hands were shaking. Eyes blurred with tears, she shot, and missed by a mile. The bullet strayed to the left and shattered a window. She shot again, this time catching the hunter in the arm, causing it to shriek angrily.

It pounced before she could shoot again, knocking her to the ground. The gun clattered out of her hands. Melia shielded herself with her arms and inhaled, gathering all the breath she could muster.

"HEEEELP!"

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to follow/fave or leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5- Silence

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Disclaimer**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 5- Silence**

"Ya know, if I was barricaded on top of a gun store, I would've asked for some damn entertainment, not a pack of cola," Rochelle said. She paused for a moment before adding, "Like, crossword puzzles. Or magazines."

Coach rubbed his stomach, which grumbled as he contemplated. "I dunno. If I barricaded myself in, I think I'd be craving some chocolate bars."

"What would you get, Nick?" Ellis asked.

The conman was leaning against the side of the store, sucking on a cigarette. "Pack of smokes, I guess."

Rochelle rolled her eyes. "What about you Ellis?"

The boy laughed, holding out his new shotgun. "Hell, if I lived on top of a gun store, I wouldn't need nuthin' else! That's like livin' on the top tier of heaven. Well not really, cuz yew can only go to _real_ heaven when yer dead, but yew know what I mean. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time my buddy Keith fell off a telephone pole? Well, I guess I should start at the part where he actually climbed up the telephone pole." Ellis chuckled. "Man, that was funny. So there was this girl, right..."

Nick did his best to tune the boy out. Normally he would've stopped him, but with no zombies in sight, there was nothing to do but wait for Melia, and therefore no good excuse to get the hick to shut up. The bits and pieces of stories Ellis had actually been able to tell were pretty funny, but somehow the conman was never in the mood for them.

_God- or whoever the heck you are- send something to shut him up. Please._ Nick prayed silently. Truth was, Nick wasn't sure if he believed in a higher being (especially not after this shit hit the fan), but he had nothing to lose.

The sound of a gunshot, followed by glass breaking, broke Nick from his thoughts. He looked up to see glass showering over Rochelle, Coach, and Ellis; a window had been broken. The bullet whizzed past the group and went into a nearby car, setting of the arm.

"_Shit!_" Nick cursed. The roar of a horde echoed in the distance. The top of infected heads appeared as the zombies struggled to climb over various barricades.

The hair on the back of Nick's neck rose when he heard a throaty, high pitched, terrifying scream.

Melia's voice.

Without a second thought, Coach football tackled the front doors of the store, setting off a second alarm. He ran straight towards the source of the screams, the rest of the team in close pursuit.

She was wrestling with the hunter helplessly; the thing was nearly twice her size. She had pulled her legs up from underneath it and restrained one on the hunter's arms by squeezing it between her knees, but the other hand clawed at her mercilessly. Her arms were scratched, and there were droplets of blood scattered along the floor. Nick paled when he saw the small pool of blood that had gathered around her face.

Ellis and Rochelle warded off the infected while the other two peeled the hunter off of the teen. Nick stuck a bullet through the thing's head, and was surprised when he found Melia already standing upright, though she leaned heavily on a nearby counter.

"_Get the cola_," she said. Raising one shaking hand, she fired over Nick's shoulder at the wave of oncoming infected. With the size of the horde, it was hard _not_ to hit something. Four infected fell to the ground.

"You're bleeding-" Nick began.

"I know." The girl nodded and stumbled sideways, holding her side. Coach scooped her up.

"I gotcha girl. Just focus on shootin' as best ya can." He turned to Rochelle. "Ro!" He jerked his chin at the soda. Rochelle grabbed the pack by the handle and continued shooting, helping clear a path out of the store.

Slowly but surely, the group made their way out through the sea of infected. Rochelle jumped up onto a small wall, taking a shortcut to the cola-crazed man. She sprinted up the stairs and dumped the cola into the open slot. Soon after, a small bomb or missile of some sort set off an explosion, taking out half of the infected.

"GO GO GO GO!" Coach hollered. Ellis took the teen from Coach's arms then sprinted away from the horde and towards the mall. Rochelle followed quickly behind while Coach and Nick followed more slowly, picking off the remaining infected.

It seemed to take forever to get rid of the infected. Eventually, their numbers dwindled- there were ten. Three. One. Zero.

When they were done, Coach could not remember what it was like to _not_ be out of breath. The air was silent, excluding the breaths of the two survivors as they trailed after their other friends. They trudged through the humid, hot air and into a saferoom- the entrance to the mall.

All five survivors were sprawled out on the floor, leaning heavily into the wall. Their eyes were hazy, chests heaving. Sighing, Rochelle wet her lips with her tongue.

"I hope that guy fucking _loves_ cola."

* * *

"I feel fine," Melia protested. "Maybe not 100%, but fine."

Nick didn't even glance up at the girl, all of his attention focused on cleaning the wound in her side. "Just eat your damn crackers, kid."

Melia hesitated, but obeyed. Sighing, she munched on a saltine and watched the conman silently.

Coach and Ellis were still laying on the ground, and Rochelle was going through their supplies, getting rid of what was no longer needed and replacing it with whatever could be useful from this saferoom. The entire room was filled with an unusual silence, no chatter, only the sound of Coach and Ellis breathing deeply.

"...sorry," the girl finally said. It came out in just above a whisper. The group glanced up at her, and she turned her head away, face flushing. "I should've been able to get the cola without setting off the alarm-"

"Stop." The group turned their attention to Rochelle, who was pressing her lips together as she worked. They were all taken aback by her firm tone. "We can't all do everything perfectly. We can't survive on our own. That's why we're together." She paused, shouldering her bag and making eye contact with each survivor. She stood straight and tall. Her height was forgotten when the group took in her confident, firm presence.

Nick couldn't help but stare. _God, I love that woman, _he thought.

Rochelle looked into Nick's blue eyes, then stepped in front of Melia. The teen stared up at her, lips parted, waiting.

"We can't apologize for things out of our power," Rochelle said. "If you keep apologizing, you're going to feel guilty. Guilty just for asking for help. And maybe one day you don't ask-" Rochelle's breath caught, and her eyes took on a wet shine. She turned towards the wall, suddenly small again.

"Don't do that." A pause. "Don't get yourself killed."

Without another word, Rochelle walked out the saferoom door and into the mall.

* * *

The group had wandered their way through the twisting, seemingly endless shopping center until they found a store that could easily be broken into. There was infected everywhere- too many to kill- and after the recent incident, the group didn't dare risk setting off another alarm. Luckily, a JCPenney's employee had only been halfway done with closing the store when she was turned into an infected. The gates had been left half open, and the group sauntered through the partially ravaged store in the hopes of finding something useful remaining.

The group had only just entered the store when Rochelle turned on her heel, jaw tight. Without a word, she speed-walked toward the shoe department.

"What-" Ellis began, but quickly bit his lip. Coach only folded his arms and sighed heavily, watching the woman stalk off. He chuckled when he saw that Nick's gaze was fixated on the woman as she walked. That boy was in for it.

Coach gently tapped the dazed man on his suit-padded shoulder. "Nick."

"Uh-huh?" the man murmured, not even glancing at the older man. Coach smirked, and the rest of the group exchanged glances. "We're gonna head up to the sports department. It's just up the stairs. Why don't ya'll meet us up there when yer' ready?"

"Uh-huh," Nick said. Still not looking back, Nick started on his way, quickly following Rochelle. Melia looked at Coach, pointed at a sign near Rochelle marked _Juniors_, and scampered along after Nick.

The silence was deafening. With Coach and Ellis gone, there was no idle chatter- only the occasional metallic clinking of hangars being moved along the racks. Nick hated it. He stood where he had both Rochelle and Melia in his sight, occasionally glancing down at his watch, only to find that the expensive thing had a large crack along the center of the glass. He wondered if he could get another one while they were in the mall.

Nick continued to wait. Soon he realized that it had been an hour since Rochelle last spoke, and that she'd been staring at the same shelf of shoes for a good fifteen minutes. He debated whether or not to approach her, pacing back and forth between two isles in the near distance.

"You should talk to her." The conman jumped nearly a foot in the air and stumbled, steadying himself before he could knock over a shelf.

"God, Melia, what the hell?" he hissed. The girl only looked up at him with that same doe eyed expression, silent.

She smiled. "That bad, huh?" she asked.

"What?"

"My clothes." Holding out her arms, she spun in a circle, modeling the black jeggings and layered top.

"Oh." Nick gave her a quick glance over, but his attention was divided. His eyes whipped back and forth between Rochelle and the girl. "No- what I meant- you surprised me."

Melia chuckled. "I couldn't tell." Folding her arms, she looked over at Rochelle. "She's been staring at the same shelf for a solid twenty minutes."

"Yeah, I know," Nick replied, running his hands through his hair. Melia gave him a gentle push.

"Go talk to her."

"You go talk to her!"

"No!" Melia shouted. Rochelle looked up, wide eyed. Melia grinned and gave a little wave, but Rochelle only looked back down, continuing her staring contest with the shelf. The teen sighed, then looked up at Nick with a look that could've killed the entire population of North America.

Nick threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine," he said. Sighing, he stalked off in Rochelle's direction.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to follow/fave or leave a review!**


	6. Chapter 6- Roar

**Hello lovely readers! Another special note before we get started this time:**

**I apologize for the delay with the updates. Summer has been busy, and I just got back from a vacation. That didn't make getting over my writer's block any easier! Luckily, my best friend was there to help me out. Special thanks to her for helping me continue.**

**Onto the story!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 6-Roar**

"I'm not really in the mood to talk, Nick," Rochelle said. She didn't even glance up at the man as he approached, attention focused completely on the black, ankle high boots on the shelf.

"Who said I wanted to talk?" the conman replied. Grunting, he sat down and removed his worn leather shoes.

Rochelle raised a brow and glanced up at him.

"This is the women's section."

Nick froze. Put his shoe back on. There was a slight hint of color in his cheeks. Huffing, the man turned his face away and lit a cigarette, hiding his blush with his hand. "Whatever."

Rochelle scoffed and sat down next to him, removing her own shoes. Nick watched her undo the laces robotically, eyes focused on something in the distance. Her lips trembled. Nick watched her with a stony expression, afraid that if he let himself show even a smidge of emotion, something inside him would snap.

"So, what is it?" he asked. There was a pause. Nick let out a ring of smoke from his mouth, waiting patiently. After several minutes passed, he finally broke the silence. "That bad, huh?"

Sighing shakily, Rochelle bit her lip and turned away. "Like I said, I don't wanna talk about it."

"Mmm," Nick said. "I may not have had a lot of success with women, but I know enough to know that when a woman says she doesn't want to talk about something, it means she's dying to. So if you want to say something, say it. I'm not patient enough to play waiting games."

Rochelle glared. "I'm half tempted to slap you."

"Aww. You wouldn't really do that to my pretty face, would you?"

Rochelle rolled her eyes at Nick's smirk. Asshole.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

"My brother is dead," she blurted, "and it's my fault."

Nick paused mid breath, turning to Rochelle with a wide eyed look. His cigarette sizzled between his fingers. "Your fault?"

"Yeah. I made him feel like he was a pain. Like everything that happened was his fault. What I said about apologizing, to Melia-" Her eyes watered.

"You were speaking out of past experience." Nick nodded and Rochelle looked away, face visibly contorted in her best attempt to hold in tears. Nick dropped his cigarette and crushed it underfoot.

"Smoking used to make my eyes water, too," he said. Rochelle let out a hoarse laugh, and Nick smirked. Sighing, he folded his hands behind his head and leaned back.

"Listen, sweetheart. We all make mistakes. For example, I chose to wear a $3,000 white suit on the eve of the zombie apocalypse." He grinned, and she returned his smile, though solemnly. "The thing is- we're living in an apocalyptic world now. We've all got dead people." For a moment, Rochelle thought she saw a slight mist in his eyes...but then he blinked, and it was gone. "You've got to move on. Live in the now. If you keep holding onto the past, you're going to want to live in it. You're going to get bitter, you're going to freeze. And that's what _really_ gets people killed."

Rochelle nodded slowly, contemplating. Nick glanced at her from the corner of his eye and shifted, looking at her full on.

"Hey," he said. Rochelle lifted her gaze and found herself staring back at him. His blue eyes burned into her fiercely, as if he could see directly into her soul. And for a moment, she was able to see a rare sight- a small window into his own soul.

"If we make it out of this mess, meaning, make it somewhere safe, whaddya say we hold a funeral? It can be for your brother, any friends...whoever the hell you want."

Rochelle arched a brow. "And you'll help?"

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Scout's honor." Nick raised three fingers mockingly, and Rochelle couldn't help but laugh.

"All right, trooper. Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Half an hour later, the entire group had changed into fresh clothes and started on their way again. They had all been relieved to find more summery clothes, finding immediate relief when they switched from their hot jeans to more appropriate shorts. The only one who hadn't been interested in the new summer apocalypse fashions was Nick, who, when confronted, only muttered something about "not leaving his hard earned 3,000 dollars." Knowing the man was hard-headed, the rest of the group decided not to argue.

They continued through the mall, keeping an eye out for any good raids. It wasn't long until the group stumbled into an eerily untouched area. The stores were left open and there was no sign of infected, and most supplies had been left on the shelves. Ellis had excitedly run into some sort of convenience store. The rest of the group was quick to follow.

Melia lagged behind, waiting at the entrance of the store instead of ravaging it's contents. Her head was throbbing, and her stomach churned. Something deep in her gut told her something was _off_, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what. So she shifted her weight from foot to foot, gaze shifting between her friends and the pathways in the mall.

Coach let out a bemused chuckle. "It's awight, young'un. Why don't you calm down and have a chocowate bar?" Small bits of dark chocolate flew out of the man's mouth along with his words, landing at Melia's feet. She gave Coach a wan smile and shook her head.

"I'm alright. Thank you."

Coach held out another bar to her anyways, but the teen only continued to shake her head. Rochelle looked up from her gossip rag for a moment, raising a brow at the girl.

"Melia," Rochelle said. The teen's gaze shot up. "You lost a lot of blood. You should eat something. Here-" She tossed a granola bar at the teen. Melia caught it, but looked up at Rochelle with a pout.

"I'm really not hungry. I'm a little bit dizzy and-"

"Kid, eat the granola bar or I'll shove it down your fucking throat," Nick snapped. Melia's eyes went wide, and she peeled the wrapper away without another word. Nick nodded at her with a satisfied smirk.

The group continued to rummage through the store, emptying and rearranging the contents of their bags so they could fit everything. Coach's new supplies consisted mostly of chocolate, Nick's of cigarettes, lighters, and pain pills, and Ellis's of granola bars and sports drinks. Rochelle held onto a few gossip mags and small snacks, and Melia stepped away from the entrance just long enough to grab a few pain pills and bags of cheetos.

The group was still looking for more supplies when Melia noticed it. The lights on the ceiling shook ever so slightly. Then a wrapper on the ground shifted in it's place. The shelves shook, but only Nick seemed to notice. He took a step back, immediately tensing.

A loud boom sounded from outside.

"_The hell-_" Rochelle began. A horrid roar cut her off. It was deep, throaty, angry, and impossibly loud. The sound echoed through the mall. Instinctively, each survivor clapped their palms over their ears, wincing.

There was another boom, this one even louder. The sharp sound of tiles cracking filled the air, and the ground shook so hard Ellis had to grasp the wall to prevent himself from falling over. The survivors drew their weapons, crouching, ready.

"There!" Nick shouted, and they all whirled to follow his pointed finger.

They all heard Ellis draw in a breath before his scream. "TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!"

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought by writing a review! I love those XD. Seriously, though, reviews really help motivate me, so if you're looking forward to the next chapter, leave a review and maybe it'll get out a little faster! ;) Don't forget to follow/fave!**


	7. Chapter 7- Bile

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Update: We have now reached over 1,000 views! Thanks to all of you readers and your great feedback- this has been a great experience. This series will be continuing for quite a while, so please keep reading! :D Thank you guys!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

**Chapter 7- Bile**

"TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!"

At the sound of Ellis's voice, the tank whirled to face the group of survivors, nostrils flaring. It's chest heaved as it inhaled deeply, then let out a rattling roar, grabbing a nearby vending machine and hurling it in the direction of the frightened four survivors.

The glass windows of the convenience store shattered in a brilliantly chaotic fashion, every bit of glass sparkling as they flew through the air underneath the dimmed lights. Everyone scrambled for cover. Ellis hid behind the counter, Rochelle and Nick ran behind some shelves, and Coach and Melia darted out of the store completely, watching as the vending machine crashed into a few shelves, starting a domino effect.

"Nick!" Ellis screamed, but the conman was already in motion. He grabbed Rochelle's hand and darted towards the counter, pulling the woman behind him. The heavy shelves came crashing down just moments later.

A sharp click filled the air as Coach reloaded his assault rifle, aiming at the large, lumpy infected. "Over here, ugly!" he yelled as he opened fire.

The tank let out an angry roar, beating his chest before charging towards Coach. Melia darted to the side as Coach began to backpedal, keeping the thing occupied while he waited for one of the others to take the tanks attention away from him.

"Thank God we all thought to get extra guns from the shop!" Rochelle said. She reloaded her submachine gun with surprising speed and opened fire on the fleshy zombie, turning its attention to her. Ellis and Nick followed suit.

Despite thefire coming from four guns, the tank didn't seem to be fazed. It didn't slow in its advance, nor did there appear to be any blood; it was almost as if it were just absorbing the bullets. Nick let out a frustrated grunt and yanked a molotov from his pack, hurling it onto the tank.

"YEAAAAAAH!" Ellis cheered. "Tank barbecue time!"

A low, throaty growl sounded from the tank's throat, echoing through the mall. The thing puffed its chest out and looked to the ceiling, screeching in an unholy way. The survivors cringed and brought their hands to their ears, trying and failing to muffle the horrifying sound. When the tank finally stopped, the sound of a horde answered.

"Oh, _fuck_," Nick groaned. The sound of running footsteps echoed through the mall, and the ground shook. Coach and Melia saw the horde- or hordes, rather- coming from all directions. Melia threw a molotov to one side, hoping to slow or at least hinder the advance.

"_Get out of that store!_" she screamed. The three survivors didn't argue, they knew what trouble they'd be in if they were to get trapped in such close quarters. The only problem was the angry, flaming tank standing right next to the entrance.

They started towards a broken window, but the horde got there first, blocking their escape. The rest of the exits were blocked by wreckage or fire. Nick, Ellis, and Rochelle locked gazes and nodded. Nick continued to distract the nearing tank, while Ellis and Rochelle fought off the incoming horde.

Outside, Coach and Melia were nearly overwhelmed. The horde was thick, and the fact that the two were separated didn't make it any easier. Beyond that, the constantly moving bodies of the infected made it impossible to get a clear shot on the tank.

"Melia!" Coach hollered, voice barely audible over the noise. "Go!" the man threw a bile bomb and focused all his fire on the resulting circle of chaos. The infected near Melia quickly cleared as they rushed towards the unappetizing smell of boomer vomit.

Melia charged towards the tank, focusing her sub-machine fire as best she could, but the tank didn't turn. It continued to charge towards Rochelle, Ellis and Nick, picking up broken pieces of shelves on the floor and hurling them at the survivors.

It still didn't turn as Melia got closer, and the bile bomb was beginning to fade. The girl whipped her head around, searching for something, anything-

_Glass_.

Melia picked up the longest piece of glass she could find and hurled it at the tank, cutting a large gash in its back. Finally, there was blood. Another roar escaped from the tanks lips, and it paused in its advance to glare at the teen, eyes flaming. Melia met its eyes steadily, sending an unspoken challenge.

The tank charged out of the store faster than before. Melia was alarmed by the sudden increase in speed, and she stumbled as she grabbed the next piece of glass and threw it, making the tank even angrier. The flaming monster rushed out of the store and Melia dashed away, the tank just a few feet behind.

None of the survivors thought the tank would get faster, but it did. Melia didn't have the time or the room to turn and shoot, the only thing she could do was run. She was sprinting at full speed with the tank close on her heels, and she could feel the ground shake behind her each time its heavy body slapped against the ground. It was a sight to see, the flaming monstrosity following the small girl, both of them moving so quickly that they were barely more than a blur.

The scent of more boomer bile filled the air as the survivors fought their way through the horde. Melia was fully aware that her friends wouldn't be able to help her just yet, so she bounded up an escalator, hoping the increased altitude would give them all a clearer shot when they were ready. The tank slowed ever so slightly as it pounded up the stairs behind the teen, but she only got faster. With enough distance finally between them, Melia was able to turn and begin shooting again.

Downstairs, Coach was trying his best to ignore his numerous scratches while fighting off the horde. It was still so thick it was almost suffocating; he could barely see. The crowded environment reminded Rochelle of the last time she'd been to a rock concert. Bodies were constantly pressing up against her- there was no such thing as personal space- and the noise was deafening. Thankfully, she, Ellis, and Nick had at least been able to make it out of the store. They stuck together and didn't stop shooting until the air was clear enough to start looking for the tank.

"Where'd they go?!" Nick shouted. Ellis and Coach met his eyes but only shook their heads. But Rochelle pointed.

"There!" she hollered, pointing to the floor above them to her left. Near the railing, Melia and the tank were still sprinting full speed, both their bodies dripping with sweat. Wordlessly, the four survivors bounded up the stairs.

It was far easier to focus their fire on the tank without a large horde. Rochelle, Nick, and Coach left all infected to Ellis while they continued shooting the oversized infected. Thankfully, it finally seemed to be slowing down. Charred legs didn't exactly help its advance.

A minute later, the tank stopped and sunk to its knees with a sickening _thud!_ The ground shook when its larger upper body fell forward, slapping against the tile floor. Melia gradually slowed to a stop, her breaths shaky and uneven.

"You _fucking_ idiot," Nick started. "Why the hell would you go upstairs? Stop trying to be a hero before it gets you killed."

"Nick-" Rochelle began, but Melia held up her hand.

"No," the teen panted, "he's right. I...I'm sorry."

Nick harumphed and folded his arms, averting his gaze. Melia looked to the ground and sunk to one knee, breathing hard.

Ellis shot an infected in the distance before hoisting his gun up and turning to the group. "Hey, look, we should really get to a safe room. We're all pretty scratched up." The other survivors nodded and turned, falling into a scattered formation with Ellis at the head of the group. But Melia didn't get up.

Nick approached the girl and gently tugged at her arm. "Hey, come on, chirpy, time to go." Melia nodded but continued to crouch on the ground, panting. She wobbled ever so slightly and looked at Nick with a somewhat dark expression, holding her hands to her head. Nick scoffed.

"What, got something else to say?"

Melia's eyes narrowed, and she yanked herself out of Nick's grasp and towards the railing. She leaned over the edge, opened her mouth, and hurled up everything Rochelle had just made her eat. The other woman moved over to hold the girl's hair back, averting her gaze from the vomit as it fell down a story and to the floor.

When she was done vomiting, Melia continued to dry heave. Her head was spinning, and she silently cursed at the pills in her bag. Those damn things were supposed to be helping her- not hindering her and the rest of the group. She'd been handling it so well until today...

A few minutes later, the spinning she felt in her head had slowed to the point of being bearable. The teen took a swig from her water bottle and then gargled it before spitting it onto the floor below. She rose somewhat shakily and wiped her mouth. The rest of the group stared silently.

"I'm fine," she said. "That was my fault, for being stupid. Let's just go."

Ellis began reaching for her. "Do you want me to-"

"_I said I'm fine!_"

The group reeled, and Melia looked back towards the ground. She brushed Ellis on his shoulder and looked up at him sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm alright, thank you. Let's go."

Ellis nodded, and started on his way. Coach took in his surroundings before following, his brow furrowed.

"Yo, Ellis, you know where you're going?" he asked.

Ellis nodded and slowed to a stop near a poster depicting a man and a car- some sort of advertisement.

"Hell yeah! I been dreamin' of drivin that racecar for ages! The sooner mah baby and I are united, hte better."

Nick rolled his eyes, and Rochelle chuckled, shaking her head.

"It better be damn fast," she said.

Coach grinned. "Oh, it will be. Gibbs car, here we come!"

Ellis hooted and picked up his pace, and Coach fell into step beside him, launching into a long discussion about the accomplishments of and how they planned on using the car to get out of the mall. Nick and Rochelle both tried to join in, laughing at Ellis's childishly displayed enthusiasm.

Melia, however, fell to the back of the group and tuned out of the conversation completely. Expression hard, she took swigs out of her water bottle and thought on her mistakes- mistakes that could've gotten her and the others killed. She reached back and felt the pills in her pack, another wave of nausea rushing through her. As she felt the bottle in her hand, she observed the others, wondering if they could survive with someone so irreparably flawed.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought by writing a review! I love those XD. Seriously, though, reviews really help motivate me, so if you're looking forward to the next chapter, leave a review and maybe it'll get out a little faster! ;) Don't forget to follow/fave!**


	8. Chapter 8- Pills

**Hello lovely readers!**

**Congratulations, you have made it to the longest and perhaps most important chapter thus far in the series. Thanks to all of you for reading this far! I believe this is the chapter many of you have been waiting for...to find out what I mean, read on! :)**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 8-Pills**

"You fucking suck at driving, hick," Nick grunted as the car bumped it's way over a pothole, then jerked slightly as Ellis shifted gears.

The boy shot a glare at Nick from the corner of his eye. "I'm doin' the best I can, Nick!"

"It's alright, Ellis. The rest of us would be doing a lot worse if we were driving manual."

Coach chuckled. "It's really not that bad anyways. If he was real bad, Melia would've thrown up again by now. You feelin' sick at all, young'un?" The man leaned forward to look at the girl, who had been eerily silent as she stared out the window from the passenger's seat.

The teen shook her head ever so slightly. "I'm not sick from the driving," she replied, voice just above a whisper. The rest of the group exchanged glances; Melia had been acting strange ever since the tank encounter in the mall.

Nick leaned his face towards Rochelle, whispering into her ear. "So...do you think that maybe it's that time of the month, because- OW!" Rochelle smacked Nick square in the arm before he could finish, holding her finger to her lips and shaking her head. Melia shot daggers at the man from the corners of her eyes. Coach leaned forward then, blocking her gaze.

"It's gettin dark ya'll. We should start thinking about where we wanna stop."

The others nodded in agreement.

"I ain't picky. I'll sleep anywhere," Ellis offered.

"Same," Nick said.

Rochelle rolled her neck, looking at the buildings as they flew by. "I'm fine with anywhere that has something mildly soft to sleep on and isn't zombie infested."

Coach chuckled lightly. "That sure sounds like heaven right now, don't it?"

* * *

"Yeah, Coach, this is heaven alright," Nick said.

The group stretched their limbs as they took in the view of the shabby motel. The barf green paint was peeling badly in more than one place, and several windows were streaked with brown. One of the letters on the sign was unlit, and the sound of buzzing accompanied the faint smell of spoiled food.

Coach was the first to approach a door, rolling his neck. "It could be worse, Nick. I ain't gon' turn down a soft bed just because this place ain't a five star joint." With that, Coach kicked open a door, then plopped onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh.

The rest of the group was quick to follow. Nick continued to grumble, but this time it was only to himself, and the sound of his grumbling disappeared as he shut the door behind him.

Nick, Coach, Rochelle and Ellis had all chosen adjacent rooms, but Melia had gone out of her way and gone up the stairs and to the far corner of the hotel. It took her several loud, painful tries to get the door open, after which she stumbled into her room and slammed the door behind her. Rochelle and Ellis shared a glance.

"Should we...?" Ellis asked. Rochelle lowered her gaze and shook her head slightly.

"She's had a rough day; we all have. I'll go check on her later."

Ellis gazed up at Melia's room with a worried expression, but nodded at Rochelle anyways. There was no way he could understand the female mind- Rochelle had to know what she was doing, and he had to trust her.

Above, Melia had collapsed onto a ratty chair, face buried in her hands. Her head was throbbing, mind racing, heart pounding. She was in no condition to be running around; the relentless exercise was taking it's toll. Sighing, she popped a few pain pills in her mouth and dumped the contents of her bag onto the bed before heading to the bathroom. A quiet prayer escaped her lips as she turned the knob on the sink, and she sent up thanks when water trickled out. She rinsed her hands and then ruffled through her supplies until she found what she had been looking for- a bar of soap and extra clothes she'd picked up at the mall.

A grimy stench wafted up from her body and the inside of her clothes as she undressed. Melia grimaced at her own scent, glad that the motel had a working sink. Bits of dirt fell out of her shoes when she removed them, and the salt of her sweat showed in uneven lines on her shirt.

Melia threw her clothes to the ground in disgust and then snuck a glance at the mirror- and froze.

She was far worse than she had thought she was.

She was thinner than before, the outline of her ribs showed slightly under her once tan skin. Her complexion was spotty and pale, eyes dull. But that was not the worst of it.

Long, thin scabs covered her body - marks that the infected had left. On her legs, sides, and shoulders, there were an abundance of bruises. The causes? She couldn't remember them, of course, because normally such incidences wouldn't have left purple and green bruises. But with her weakened body, and the medicine and its side effects...

The girl looked away quickly, afraid to see any more. She showered quickly, dressed, and drifted off to sleep soon after.

* * *

Rochelle woke to something- but she wasn't sure what.

There had been something...a sound, maybe, or perhaps just a feeling. But something had disturbed her, she was sure of it.

She waited a few minutes, listening quietly. She was just about to give up when she heard the sound again- the squeak of a door opening and shutting in the near distance.

It must have been Melia.

Yawning, Rochelle pulled herself out of bed and crept up the creaky motel stairs, then creeped down the hallway underneath the flickering lights. To her surprise, she found that Melia's door had been left ajar. The desk lamp was dim, but lit, and the bathroom light had been left on. Melia was nowhere to be seen.

"Melia?" Rochelle called quietly. She peeped in and looked around the corner before shuffling her way to the bathroom, hoping Melia was inside. She wasn't. There was a toothbrush- wet, perhaps the teen had just woken up - a dirty towel, and some pills- the special pills that Melia always seemed to be holding onto. Rochelle stopped a moment and squinted at the bottle. What could possibly be so important about those damn pills?

Then again, it was none of her business what the teen chose to take. Rochelle looked away before-

_Wait_.

Rochelle froze. Had she just seen what she thought she'd seen? Slowly she turned, almost not _wanting_ to see. Perhaps in her exhausted state she'd only been imagining things. She was stressed, after all- who wouldn't be in a zombie apocalypse? So maybe she'd been wrong...yes, she was sure she was wrong. All she had to do was check the bottle again, and she could prove to herself that she'd only been imagining things.

Rochelle whipped around and snatched up the bottle.

And it said exactly what she had feared.

_**Temozolomide.**_

An oral chemotherapy she was all too familiar with.

Rochelle reeled, suddenly sick. The pills fell from her hand and clattered to the ground as Rochelle dry heaved over the toilet, wincing. She could not watch this again. Not after her mother...

"Rochelle."

Rochelle turned to face the doorway and found Melia standing there. For a moment, their gazes locked, Rochelle's eyes wide with horror, Melia's wide with surprise and then dim with glum realization. The girl stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, gently.

"You found the pills?" she whispered. Rochelle nodded.

"Is it...?"

Melia nodded. "Brain cancer. Anaplastic astrocytoma, to be exact. And I'm guessing by your face you know exactly what that is."

Rochelle's eyes watered so much she couldn't see. "How the hell can you be so insensitive to this?!"

"Shh!" Melia held her finger to her lips and crept towards Rochelle, kneeling at the woman's side. "I'm sorry. It's just- I've known for a long time."

"How long has it been?"

"About a year and a half. I found out when I was fourteen."

Rochelle looked away. The survival rate of someone with anaplastic astrocytoma was two to three years- the girl didn't have long.

"What stage?" Rochelle asked. She sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth even though she hadn't thrown up. Her stomach was still twisting ever so slightly.

Melia sat down fully on the floor, avoiding the woman's gaze. "It was stage two last time I checked. But with only the temozolomide as treatment..."

"Yeah, I understand."

The two girls sat in silence for a few moments, before Melia gathered the courage to look over at Rochelle. Her eyes were dull, and Melia could see the gears turning in her head. The woman was lost inside a memory.

Melia gently reached out and touched Rochelle's shoulder. "You've been through this before, haven't you?"

Rochelle winced, turning her face away from the girl. She nodded.

"My mother also had anaplastic astrocytoma. It progressed and..." Rochelle swallowed, unable to finish. Melia nodded.

"It progressed into glioblastoma, and she died?"

Rochelle nodded.

She couldn't stop going through everything in her head. It all made sense now. The headaches the teen got, the subtle personality changes, the seemingly depressed mental state...all things she'd watched her mother go through. And the nausea...

"The temozolomide has been hard on you, hasn't it? The constant exercise, and eating...that's why you threw up today, isn't it?"

Melia nodded. "I've been debating...whether or not I should keep taking it. I mean, I know it might not even be doing anything without regular chemo. And I'd tried to put that off..I started refusing the treatment. We couldn't afford it...I refused the treatment long enough to get my hair back. Long enough to look somewhat normal...and then they started giving me the pills again. We were going to keep going with the chemo. But shit hit the fan..."

Rochelle nodded, her eyes misty. The woman bit her lip for a moment, and looked out the dirty window and at the stars. How had things ended up here? How had such a young, bright girl ended up with such a dim future?

"I think we should tell the others," Rochelle said. She began to rise, but Melia's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

Her eyes were dark, gaze lowered and intense. "_No,_" she said. It was the most forcibly Rochelle had ever heard her speak. "You can't tell them. Trust me, it will have the opposite effect we need. Despite the morbidity of my condition, they'll feel the need to protect me more- and that's the opposite of what should happen. People will get hurt that way." A flash of pain went through Melia's eyes, and she clutched at the dog tags around her neck.

Rochelle couldn't stop staring at the ground, couldn't stop shaking her head. "But-"

"You _can't_ protect me, Rochelle. Not from this." Melia paused, releasing the woman's wrist and looking at the ground. "I've accepted it. If there's extreme danger, you let _me_ go first. If there's a tank, you let it follow _me_. They told me I won't make it past my seventeenth birthday. When I die before then no longer matters to me."

Rochelle was eerily silent. She looked at Melia with a strange look in her eyes. The usual shine was gone; her eyes were dull, dead...

"Fine," Rochelle finally said. "I won't say anything."

Melia smiled ever so slightly. "Thank you."

"Mhmm," Rochelle said. "But just so you know, I'm not just going to _let_ you die. I won't put extra effort into protecting you more, but I won't just let you walk into danger unguarded either. I want to see you turn seventeen. How long of a wait is it?"

Melia smiled bigger, a soft sparkle in her gaze. "It's a year from yesterday, Rochelle."

Rochelle raised a brow. "Alright...well, if you make it to your seventeenth birthday, I'll kill a zombie and paint it's face to look like a clown."

Melia laughed. "Now that'd be a sight to see."

"Damn right," Rochelle said. She rose to her feet and opened the door, looking up again at the starry night sky. "So you better live."

"I'll try," the teen replied. She looked Rochelle dead in the eyes then, holding her gaze delicately. "Thank you, Rochelle."

Rochelle grinned. "You're welcome. And happy birthday."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! This was a very important chapter, so be sure to leave a review below. I always love getting feedback from you guys!**

**I hope to see you again in the next chapter of The Young and The Infected!**


	9. Chapter 9- Bridge

**Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! I've been writing for a while but have never published my work. Please let me know what you think by writing a review!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 9- Bridge**

The five survivors sat silently in the cramped racecar, staring blankly out at the road. They'd been driving for over an hour now, this time with Nick at the wheel, which, surprisingly, resulted in a far less bumpy ride. Side conversations had been started and then died down, crushed by the exhaustion of the survivors. Despite their comfortable beds, none of them had slept well. The bags beneath Rochelle's eyes were particularly noticeable.

Nick kept glancing over at her, wondering what had distressed her so much. She'd seemed fine after their talk in the mall yesterday- at least, he thought she had. But maybe the memory of her brother was still bothering her.

Not knowing how else to help, he turned towards her. "Nice day, huh?" he asked, flashing the woman a grin. Rochelle turned her body away from him and leaned her chin into her hand.

"Keep your eyes on the damn road, Nick."

Nick pursed his lips and gripped the steering wheel, turning his attention back to the cracked asphalt in front of him. Coach chuckled from the back seat. Rochelle had more of a hold over the conman than she realized.

"How long have we been driving?" Ellis asked.

Nick sighed. "About ten minutes longer than the last time you asked."

"Which, in total, is about an hour and twenty-seven minutes." Melia replied, her eyes flickering over Nick's wrist. "I'm surprised you didn't get a new watch while we were at the mall, Nick."

Nick's grunted. "Didn't feel like searchin' after that damn tank. A lot of those displays are armed with alarms anyway."

"You don't know how to disarm them?" Melia asked, genuine surprise clear in her voice.

Nick darkened his gaze and met Melia's eyes in the mirror. "Are you implying something?"

Melia pursed her lips, unsure how to reply. Suddenly, her eyes flickered away from Nick's.

"Bridge," she said.

Nick cocked a brow. "What?"

"Nick!" Rochelle exclaimed.

"_Bridge!_"

"Wha-" and then Nick saw it. A bridge, raised so they couldn't continue along the road. Nick slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park, skidding to a stop a safe distance from the metal bars that supported the raised bridge. The survivors lurched forward in their seats, their seatbelts locking and jerking them back into place. Coach and Ellis reached over Melia to restrain her, as she'd sat in the middle, where there was no belt. The girl toppled forward and grasped Ellis's arm, barely able to keep herself from flying into the gearshift.

Groaning, the group slowly made their way out of the car.

"That's it!" Coach exclaimed. "From now on, _I'm_ driving."

Nick scoffed. "Yeah, bet that'll be smooth."

Coach opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a voice called down from above.

"Well hello down there!"

The group turned their attention skywards, where a woman stood on the side of the raised bridge. She looked young- perhaps only a few years older than Melia- and she wore a pink hoodie along with a pair of battered jeans. She held a gun and had a determined, curious, and confident look about her- an attitude that only accentuated her beauty. Ellis immediately took notice of this and removed his hat, cheeks flushing.

"H-hello miss! What's yer name?"

The girl grinned. "Zoey. You?"

"Ahm Ellis, and these here are mah buddies: Nick, Coach, Rochelle, and Melia."

Zoey's eyes widened upon noticing the other two women. "Two?! God, I thought I was the last woman on Earth!"

Rochelle chuckled. "Oh, I know that feeling."

"I wouldn't mind if she was the last woman on Earth..." Ellis breathed, awestruck. Nick rolled his eyes and elbowed his companion in the side.

"Uh-say," Ellis began, snapping out of his daze, "do ya think yew could lower that bridge for us? We kinda need to get across."

"Sorry! We can't lower the bridge. You're gonna need to get to the other side; we can help you then. And then once you get over you'll need to fill up the generator. The generator will make a lot of noise, but don't worry Ellis, we can cover you from up here. You got all that?"

The group waited for the boy's reply, but were met only by silence. Zoey grinned and cocked a brow.

"Ellis...are you going to answer her?" Rochelle asked.

"She is so beautiful. She is _so_ beautiful..." Ellis murmured. Rochelle sighed.

"He's got it! Thanks!" she called.

Zoey waved and turned away from the railing, making her way back onto the bridge. "No problem! See you on the other side!"

The group turned away and began collecting their belongings from the car.

"Saying something like that at a time like this is bad luck," Nick muttered.

"What, you a superstitious man?" Rochelle asked as she looped the straps of her health pack over her shoulders.

Nick paused. "A little."

"Mmm," Rochelle said. "Funny, I didn't take you for that type." With that, she began towards some nearby stores, following the signs advertising an _exclusive_ under the river museum tour. Nick was quick to follow

"What do you mean _that type_?" he asked. Coach only shook his head started on behind them, Ellis and Melia at his sides.

* * *

**Sorry this chapter was so short guys. I know it's been a while since I've posted. More chapters coming soon (hopefully).**

**Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to follow/fave or leave a review!**


	10. Chapter 10- Luck

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy with school and work and all that jazz. With the semester coming to a close, hopefully I'll be able to post more. But never fear, the story is far from over.**

**As always, comments, faves, and follows always help give me motivation to write and are always appreciated! Thank you to everyone who's done any of that so far, especially those who have followed and are sticking with me.**

**Without further ado, onto the story!**

**Disclaimer:**

**Left4dead is Valve's property.**

* * *

**Chapter 10-Luck**

"Hey, Nick, is this what yer ex-wife looked like at yer weddin'?" Ellis whispered, jutting his chin in the direction of the sobbing witch bride.

Nick shot him a glare. "_Funny,_ hick. Very funny."

"Boys," Rochelle snapped, "focus on the real problem here. We all need to get past her."

Nick tore his glaring gaze away from the boy and returned his attention to the witch. Rochelle had a point- the bride was blocking the only easy way through the park. Creeping past her would be extraordinarily risky, and going around her wasn't an option given the fact that bushes and tall metal gates blocked any other paths through the park. Surely they could make their way over or through such obstacles, but by doing so, they would probably cause a commotion that would startle the sobbing woman.

"So what now?" Ellis asked. His companions looked equally as clueless, but then Melia's eyes lit up. She began creeping towards the bushes furthest from the witch.

Nick reached out his hand. Surely she wouldn't risk loudly walking straight through one of the bushes- would she? "Melia-" he began, but the girl only shushed him. Quietly, she continued forward, gesturing for Ellis to follow. The boy obeyed, following silently behind her.

The group watched as Melia and Ellis neared the bushes, low and quiet, preventing the witch from noticing them. They crept as far away from the witch as they could, only stopping when the gates prevented them from going any further.

Melia gestured to Ellis, whispered something, and the boy folded his hands above his knee. Melia backed up a few steps, ran towards Ellis, stepped into his hand. With his added push, she successfully vaulted over the high bush, barely knicking the leaves. She landed with a loud grunt on the other side, and the witch's growl grew louder.

Rochelle bit her lip. The fact that the teen had taken the risk of going first was no accident. The girl's words from the previous night echoed in her memory.

_If there's extreme danger, you let _me _go first._

If things went on like this, the girl's luck would run out, and she would be killed.

Rochelle set her mouth into a firm line. She refused to let that happen. She would not let another person throw themselves into danger and die.

The group waited for what seemed like forever for it to die back down into muffled sobs. After they did, they let out breaths they didn't realize they'd been holding. Melia raised her hand and motioned for the group to follow before tip-toeing away.

Quietly, they followed. First Rochelle, then Nick, then, with some difficulty, Coach. Ellis vaulted off the nearby wall to get over, surprising the group when he cleared the bush with ease. The witch growled more than once, but never rose from her haunches. After waiting a few moments to ensure the infected's attention was elsewhere, the group continued on their way, leaving the sobbing bride to her empty altar.

"Well, that was easy," Nick said, grinning genuinely. He glanced back at the sobbing witch again, to make sure she hadn't heard them, then turned away, his slowly widening grin making him look ridiculously out of character.

Ellis pulled at his arms, stretching his muscles. "I wouldn' exactly call liftin' Coach easy," he said, ignoring the older man's glare, "but yeah, that was a helluva lot more peaceful than usual."

"It'd be nice if we could do that more often. About time this group had some damn luck," Nick continued.

Rochelle scoffed. "Yeah, we're a _real_ lucky bunch."

Coach and Ellis exchanged glances. Where had Rochelle's usual positive attitude gone? Nick looked toward Melia, but the girl kept her eyes downcast.

The conman gently creeped closer to Rochelle, speeding up to match her hurried gait. Leaning down slightly so he could see her face better, he softly,hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?" he asked.

For a moment, fire burned in the woman's eyes, and she looked as if she might slap him. But then the fire died, replaced by something even more terrifying: the absence of the usual light. Nick furrowed his brow, wondering what dark thought could make the hopeful woman's eyes look so dim. He massaged her shoulder slowly, tentatively. "_Rochelle_."

"_I'm fine_," the woman whispered, voice cracking. She turned away, her face again contorted in the pained expression that had now become familiar to Nick. He stilled his hand, knowing she wouldn't want to cry. Not now. She paused a few moments, sucked in a slightly shaky breath. When she spoke again, her voice was firm. Oddly calm. "I don't really want to talk about it. Thank you."

She turned to look at him now, with another look that he had recently become familiar with. The look that said _I'm dying to talk about it, but right now I can't_.

Nick nodded and turned away, lips pursed. Both women were acting weird, and he didn't like it. Something was up- whether he wanted to know what, exactly, he wasn't sure.

* * *

"What was it you were saying about luck, Nick?" Coach asked. The group stood at the edge of a broken stairwell, staring down half a story at the murky green liquid illuminated by the glows of their flashlights. A few of them held their noses, sucking in stuffy, moist air through their mouths.

Nick looked down at the bright white leg of his pants, wondering how they would look with a green-brown ombre at the bottom. "I guess we used all our luck up for today," he replied. "Not everyone gets to walk unharmed past a witch _and_ tour an underground dirt museum in the same day."

Ellis looked back up the stairwell, recalling the dirty, empty rooms. "I don' think that technically counts as a museum."

"I'd still take that over this," Melia said, leaning forward when she caught sight of something brown floating in the water below.

Coach tucked his flashlight into the side of his backpack. "Alright, alright. Enough of the chatter. Let's get our asses moving. Who's gonna be first?"

He glanced around, his hopeful gaze only met by empty stares and wandering eyes. Sighing, he took a step forward, towards the water. "That's what I thought."

Quickly, before he could change his mind, he lunged forward, landing with a loud, disgusting _shlop_ in the muck below. Ellis sucked in a breath and jumped after him, while the other three peered down hesitantly from above.

"It ain't so bad!" Ellis called up. "Barely knee deep!"

"For you!" Rochelle replied. Ellis towered over her and Melia by nearly a foot, and his legs were longer and lankier, his torso smaller and more compact. The girls were sure to be up to at least their thighs. Gathering her courage, Rochelle plugged her nose and leapt into Ellis's arms, confirming her suspicions. The water stopped at the middle of her thigh, sloshing up to her hips when the others moved too quickly. She groaned in disgust and kept sucking in air through her mouth, trying not to think about what could be hidden in the murky liquid.

Ellis and Coach looked upwards, arms outstretched for the two remaining party members.

"I can catch you too, princess!" Coach called to Nick. The conman rolled his eyes, a soft growl escaping from his lips.

"Just get outta my way!"

The two men obliged, stepping to the side and turning their backs so the splash wouldn't hit their faces. Nick jumped and landed without even a grunt. The grace of his fall and the way he immediately began preening his hair and suit reminded Melia of a cat. She chuckled softly to herself, watching from above as Nick desperately picked pieces of God-knows-what off of himself.

Nick heard the girl's laughter and spun on his heels, sneering up at her. "You gonna come down, giggles, or are you just gonna sit there and make us wait in this shit?"

The teen pursed her lips for a moment, as if contemplating which snippy comeback to use. The group was surprised when she said nothing, choosing to blow a raspberry at Nick instead. The conman only raised a brow in response.

Melia looked down at the water below, squinting. How far it was exactly, she couldn't tell. Her world was spinning. She felt it again, that feeling deep in her gut that something was just _off_, but she didn't know what was causing it. She took a moment and massaged her temples, hoping to stop the dizziness. But then her vision went black at the edges, one of her knees giving out beneath her.

From below, it looked as if the teen had just barely leaned off of the staircase instead of putting in the effort of jumping. Her feet slipped off the edge of the last stair, and she plummeted down a floor, to where the group was waiting. Ellis shot forward and caught the girl in his arms, then eased her to the ground. She stumbled, leaning heavily into his chest. Though Ellis would've liked to think the move was flirtatious, something told him that that was not the case. It was becoming obvious, even to him. Something was wrong.

Then Melia was pushing herself off of him, cheeks red, shaking her head as if to clear it. She scampered away in the water as best she could, creating large splashes by launching the water from her thighs with quick movements. Rochelle was quick to follow.

The dim lighting and deep, stinking water made it difficult to navigate. The group trudged along in the darkness for a while, guided only by the little light provided by the occasional emergency lamp. After a bit of wandering the group found themselves at a ladder, which they trudged up one at a time, careful not to let more sewer water drip onto their bodies. They found a few medical kits and weapons at an abandoned camp on the dirty alcove above.

"Well someone chose a _shitty_ place to camp out durin' the apocalypse," Ellis said. The group turned to glare at him, but the boy didn't stop. "Shitty," he repeated. "Get it? _Shitty_..." He glanced around at the scowling faces then, pulling his lips into a pout. "Alright, fine. Excuse me for tryin' to lighten the mood a lil' bit."

Melia muttered something about dad jokes, and Nick rolled his eyes.

"Just stay quiet, hick," Nick said. "We're in their shitty camp now, which, by the way, must have been especially shitty because _no one is still here_."

The group was silent for a moment then, questions racing through their minds. What had become of the previous inhabitants of the camp? Why had they camped in such a place?

...had something trapped them?

It seemed they all had reached the same conclusion. No one said a word. They were listening, waiting.

A large chorus low growls sounded in the near distance.

_The infected_.

"_Fuck_," Nick cursed. The group quickly looted the camp and moved towards the sound of the growls, their hearts dropping when it became clear that the infected would stand between them and the only way out of the sewers.

They crossed under an arched brick tunnel to another alcove, this one lined with metal railings. Past the alcove was a room- a _HUGE_ room- perhaps as large as a football field, or bigger. The entirety of the space was filled with the common and special infected, who growled at each other, and nothing, as they sloshed through the sewer water.

There had to have been hundreds of them.

"Great," Rochelle said. She approached a metal gate, which had once led to a metal pathway that would carry the group over the death-filled water. But that pathway, of course, had been broken, leaving the group with no option but to hop down to join the zombies.

Coach pointed to a large red button next to the gate. The sign around it read

_Gate will open_

_Alarm will sound_

"Double great," Coach said grimly. Nick pulled out a pipe bomb and a lighter, and Ellis and Rochelle cocked their guns.

"This'll be fun," Rochelle said, peering down her sights at the horde below.

Nick smirked half-heartedly.

"Like I said, your definition of fun just shows that you need help."

Coach stepped between the two, cutting off further conversation. Melia crouched low, as if ready to sprint, and Coach let his hand hover over the red button.

"Ready?" he asked. The group nodded silently, eyes trained on their targets. Coach couldn't help but be reminded of his times as a track coach before he coached football, when he called to his team, telling them to be on their marks. This, too, was a race, but a very different kind. This time, his team would be running for their lives.

He just hoped they could win the race.

Coach inhaled, exhaled, and slammed his fist down on the button.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, please be sure to leave a review below, fave, follow, or share with your friends! I always love getting feedback from you guys!**

**I hope to see you again in the next chapter of The Young and The Infected!**


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